natsumatsuri
by pengiechan
Summary: A wooden fish, a butterfly, a summer festival, and the fireworks that fall between. Very light HitotsumexChocho. Takes place 1 year after episode 11 of Onmyoji: Heian Tales.


**natsumatsuri  
**_a butterfly, a wooden fish, a summer festival, and the fireworks that fall between._

* * *

He still hasn't quite mustered up the courage to talk to her.

He's _meant _to. Of _course_ he has. He just… hasn't done it, yet.

Hitotsume sits on a riverbank in the underworld, alone and ignoring the hustle and bustle of the noise in the streets and shops - well, _almost_ alone, except for the little dog pouncing on bugs around his ankles. Kyonshi Imouto's been letting Tomato run loose on these warm summer days - _it ain't right to keep him cooped up! _she'd said, when he'd asked - and the pup has spent much of the last hour keeping him company as he's thought.

Thought about her, of course. What else? _Who_ else? He's not close to anyone here, but the only one he cares about is the butterfly spirit.

_Did you like the sounds I made, Chocho-san…?_

He's wanted to ask that question for so long - too long - but he's never been able to find the courage to walk up to her, open his mouth, and form a single, simple sentence.

For ages, now, he's wanted to tell her how long he's admired her - first as the undying purple butterfly who fluttered in to visit his master, day after year, year after year, and now as the cheerful spirit who flutters about with her tambourine. There's no sense of time anymore, here, in the Netherworld, but it must be centuries, now - a millenium - that's he's longed for that sweet smile to be directed at his face.

And even if she _did_ notice him, could he say those words? Could he dare tell her how he followed her, that graceful spirit reborn from a butterfly, all the way from his master's shrine to this place? Could he confess - say "I was the wooden fish whose sound you were drawn to," say he spent months admiring her paper-thin wings and sweet voice, that it's by some kind of destiny that they're here, now, together?

Probably not.

If she happened to notice him, he'd probably do as he's always done, hiding his eye away under the cap of some wide-brimmed hat and ducking into a quiet alley away from all the others, lest he draw too much attention and be bullied or mocked.

If she happened to speak to him, he'd probably fumble over his response and make a fool of himself, and lose his chance at explaining everything - why he's here, what he thinks about her, how _long_ he's thought those things, and…

Hitotsume buries his face in his knees and sighs. "It's useless, isn't it?" he says to no one in particular. Tomato sidles up and licks his face a few times before prancing away from the riverbank with a wag of his tail, probably to chase some forlorn spirit, and all the little monk can think is _alone, again_.

* * *

"Eh? A summer festival?"

"Yes! Hakuro-san and I are helping distribute kimono, and Futakuchi-chan and Mouba-chan are making delicious food, and Momo-san and Sakura-san are making decorations, and Aoandon-san will be reading a poem - oh, but not a spooky one, she promised!"

The object of his affection passes by him that afternoon. The spritely Kusa is bouncing along beside her, oversized dandelion bobbing up and down at a pace barely faster than her mouth. Chocho is absorbed entirely into the young spirit's explanation of some sort of festival, and who is doing what, and so there's no chance of her noticing Hitotsume perched on a pile of logs under an ancient, drooping willow.

"Will there be fireworks?" Chocho asks.

"_Yes!_" Hitotsume isn't sure he's ever heard Kusa sound so excited. The once shy grass spirit has gained quite a bit of confidence in these last few months, and he can't help but be envious. "And," she continues "I've been trying to convince Ootengu-san to _please_ play some music, too, because it'd be perfect during the fireworks, wouldn't it?" The monk can't see through the willow's branches, but he thinks Chocho nods. "But he says he won't play unless there's a full group! And I can't find that mysterious man with the flute who Kaguya-chan knows - "

"Oh, you mean Mannendake…?"

"_Yes!_" Kusa's head bobs frantically. "Hakuro-san thinks he lives in the bamboo grove, but I've looked and he's nowhere to be found. But Kaguya-chan said he plays the most beautiful sounds on his flute…"

"Ah~ that's a shame." As they walk slowly by his hiding place in the tree's shade and verdant foliage, Hitotsume can see the butterfly spirit smile ever-so-sweetly. Something thumps in his chest, and he wonders if this is what having a heart is like. "But I'm sure you'll find some other musicians. Hiromasa-sama plays an instrument, doesn't he?"

"Mm! And Hitotsume-kun!"

"Eh?"

"_Eh?_"

Chocho and Hitotsume's voices chime out in unison, and the monk freezes in place, realizing he's revealed himself. But how could he help it, hearing his name like that?!

Both of the spirits in front of him pause on the dirt path, and it's Kusa who moves first, peering into the branches of the weeping willow with wide eyes. "Umm… Hitotsume-kun…? Were you taking a nap there…? Hehe~"

"Er - ah - yes!" He leans forward, poking just the tip of his nose out of the foliage. The monk spirit is acutely aware of whose eyes are on him right now, just who is looking at him from a path just steps away, and he swallows back a knot in his throat. "I - I woke up when you said my name. Sorry - if I - er, scared you?"

"You are…" Chocho takes a cautious step toward the tree, lifting a finger to her chin. The violet wings aside her hair flutter a bit, almost as if they have a life of his own, and the memories of years long past in his master's shrine cloud Hitotsume's vision for a moment. "Hitotsume…?"

Another knot rises immediately into his throat. "Y - yes - "

"Hitotsume-kun plays the drums, I heard!" Kusa pivots on one heel to face her companion. "Or - well, _a_ drum, but a little bit of percussion should be alright!" She giggles. "Especially if Chocho-chan will play along!"

"W - wait, Kusa, I haven't agreed to - " Chocho looks from the dark-haired grass spirit to Hitotsume, then back to Kusa again. "Aren't you only in charge of kimono?"

"Please?"

"I don't normally play my tambourine for _fun, _Kusa - "

"But it's for a _festival_!" Kusa whirls around again. "And Hitotsume-kun will play too! Won't you?"

The monk feels himself start to sweat. And not because it's hot outside. "I - don't - I haven't played in a very long time - that is - er, it's not as if I played, but - "

"It's okay! We'll make do!" Apparently satisfied, Kusa bounces - floats, practically - back to the dirt path, striding along with her dandelion bobbing beside her. "Come on, Chocho-can, I'll tell Hakuro-san you need to be fitted for a kimono. And," she adds, with a wide grin over her shoulder, "Hitotsume-kun, you come too!"

"... what?"

Chocho looks back to the monk spirit, silent, almost as if she's observing him. He can't read anything in her deep eyes, can only see the wings aside her head fluttering again. He's prepared to answer a simple question - _How do you know Kusa? She's silly, don't you think?_ \- but none come. Instead, Chocho quietly turns back to the path and follows her friend, away from the row of willow trees, without another glance back as she goes.

The lump in Hitotsume's throat stays there for a while.

* * *

_one week later_

* * *

"Is - is this really necessary, Hakuro-san?"

"I think it looks very nice on you, Hitotsume-kun." Hiyoribo is one of the few spirits Hitotsume can readily say he gets along with - which means she's one of the few he actually musters up the courage to talk to - and she smiles kindly at him as she adjusts the long sleeves of a white and gold-threaded kimono. Beside her, Hakuro wears a grin that would be more appropriate for a wolf than a fox, her silky tail nearly wagging with excitement. "Besides," Hiyoribo continues, turning her attention to the obi around her middle, "hasn't it been a long time since you've been able to dress up like this?"

_More like never_, Hitotsume thinks to reply, but he's too busy fidgeting in his haori. Hakuro has dressed him in sky blue with tan hakama pants, trading his usually dirty bandages and ripped hats for new white ribbons and a wide-brimmed straw kasa. The mirror shows a spirit he barely recognizes, and although the clothing is expertly tailored, he's uncomfortable.

It's bad enough that he's been roped into this summer festival. It's _worse_ that Kusa's been certain to tell him, at _least_ a dozen times, that he and Chocho will be paired together on background percussion for Hiromasa and Ootengu's musical performance during the fireworks.

"But I don't actually play drums," he'd managed to spit out the first time, on the evening he'd been spotted in the willow tree. "I _was_ a drum."

Kusa, to her credit, hadn't questioned this statement. "Then you know what rhythm is, right?" she'd countered. And then, while he'd been too stunned to reply, she'd spotted a glimpse of a shadow moving in the bamboo grove to their right, and bounced off to pursue the ever-elusive Mannendake.

_I _do_ know rhythm. But…_

"Is something wrong?" Hakuro's voice brings the monk spirit back to the here and now, and he drops the sleeve of his haori, bringing up his eye to meet her gaze. Her grin has softened into a smile, now, and she reaches out to gently pat his shoulder. "This is your first festival, isn't it?"

"Oh - wait, is it?" Hiyoribo peers down at him, dark hair nearly swinging into his face despite the protection of his hat. "I'll go out with you if you're nervous! Festivals are a lot of fun, don't worry!"

"Thank you…" He rubs his cheek, embarrassed. "... That'd be helpful."

* * *

Festivals _are_ a lot of fun, as it turns out, even for a spirit who spends most of his time hiding away in the shade of trees, by riverbanks, or in dark alleys where no one will see his face and be tempted to start trouble.

Hiyoribo is sweet and supportive as they travel through the street blocked off for the event, pointing out food the two of them should try or games they can play. They sip Mouba's spicy seafood soup, try (and fail) to catch goldfish from Kingyo's stand, share sticky pink cotton candy freshly-spun by a beaming Kagura, and compete to land accurate arrows on Hakuro's dart boards.

It's at the end of this last event, where a joyful Hiyoribo wins a handmade flower crown in return for a perfect bullseye, that the monk feels as if he's being watched. He glances over his shoulder just in time to see the tip of a fluttering violet wing disappear behind the Kyonshi siblings' food cart.

_Was I imagining that…?_ he wonders.

"Tomato~! Come - oh! Hey!" The youngest of the Kyonshi siblings nearly collides with him, seemingly out of nowhere, and rights herself on an absurdly tall pair of geta before giving Hitotsume a wide grin. "We're scouting customers, and I've found the perfect one! Hitokke, have you had one of our skewers yet? They're sooo good!"

Tomato circles Hitotsume's ankles and barks as if to agree.

"Not yet, um…" The monk wonders where she got that nickname before deciding there are more important things to worry about right now. "What's in them?"

"Veggies!" she announces, and practically drags him toward the cart. He takes a quick glance back toward Hiyoribo - who's now caught up talking excitedly to Yamakaze about her success in the archery game, and probably won't miss having a little shadow following her around - before swiveling his head back toward the siblings' setup, just in time to see a familiar pair of butterfly wings fluttering in front of his eyes.

"Irrashaimase!" Kyonshi Otouto and Ani yell in unison, and Hitotsume tries not to react too visibly to the sight of Chocho suddenly standing beside him. Hakuro's dressed her in the same shade of sky blue as his haori, but her yukata is dotted with tiny white lines and dashes, pulled closed by an elaborate band around her middle. Her violet hair is pinned up in two buns, adorned with white flowers, and even her ever-present wings seem to have a certain soft sheen to them.

"What would you like?" Kyonshi Otouto asks Hitotsume, apparently not noticing the younger spirit's bewildered expression. But beside his brother, Kyonshi Ani seems to realize something is happening. In a flash, he reaches a spatula out to the sizzling grill and expertly flips two skewers onto a stone plate, thrusting it forward toward his customers. "Oh!" Kyonshi Otouto shouts, his eyes becoming instantly starry, "my brother's decided for you! The Tomato Special! I hope you like it!"

"Um…" Chocho reaches forward, hesitantly, her usual smile seeming forced. "Should I… share this with Hitotsume, Kyonshi Ani-san…?"

Kyonshi Ani isn't much for words: he grunts and turns around to gather more ingredients from a pile of vegetables behind him. Which is as clear as a "yes" as anything else he might say.

Hitotsume gulps. Audibly.

"Well then…" Chocho holds the plate nearer to the monk spirit. "Would you like to have this with me?"

"... y - yes," he says. And it's the first time he's ever spoken to her, his object of affection for centuries.

* * *

The "Tomato Special," as Kyonshi Otouto called it, turns out to be three colors of tiny tomatoes roasted in a mixture of herbs. It's delicious, and Hitotsume wishes he'd asked for seconds up until the moment that Chocho speaks to him again.

"We've met before, haven't we?"

He looks at her, perched on the riverbank beside him, the noise of the festival a quiet murmur at their backs. She places her wooden skewer down on the stone plate between them, her soft and faraway gaze a match to her voice. "Hitotsume…?"

The sound of his voice makes him shiver, and he swallows, pulling down his hat over his face in the off chance he's blushing. "Yes."

"You are… the wooden fish from the monk's temple?"

"... yes."

"Why… didn't you…?"

"... huh?"

"... why didn't you tell me?" She sounds unsure. "I never knew that the monk's wooden fish had… That the sound I loved to hear was still..." She glances to his back, where the petrified form of his master would normally sit; Hitotsume has left him well-protected in Hakuro's home for the evening. "I longed to hear that sound again, but I didn't know it was possible. How could it be that I didn't even notice you were here in the underworld too…?"

"I - er! Don't blame yourself!" He waves his hands frantically, a panic rising into his voice. "I don't usually come out very much!"

"But did you know that I was here, too?" Chocho stares at him, a lock of dark hair fallen from its bounds and framing her small face. "The day that I left your master, you must have seen my spirit form. If you were alive all that time…"

"Yes - well, not all the time, but -"

"Why did you never speak? If you could understand me when your master couldn't?"

"What…" He looks at her, then his hands. He's asked himself this question too many times, but the answer has always been the same. And it's the same answer he gives her now, sitting on a riverbank, the rumblings of a vibrant summer festival behind them.

"What good would it have done, if I could have spoken to you? You were a beautiful butterfly, and I was just a wooden fish. You wouldn't have wanted to waste your time talking to an ugly, one-eyed piece of wood - "

Chocho laughs, the sound like tinkling bells. Hitotsume's head snaps up so abruptly that his hat falls off, and he curls his fingers tight around the bottom hem of his haori, wondering why she's laughing at him, so hard, if he's made some kind of mistake -

"You are mistaken," she says, and smiles brightly at him, so brightly that the same thumping feeling from before returns to his chest. "Of all of the spirits in the world, you were the one I wanted to speak to the most. I always hoped the source of those beautiful sounds would one day tell me they were happy to see me in the window."

"Oh - I - er - "

"And," she continues, leaning over to gently touch one of his hands with her own. "To me, you are the most beautiful spirit in the world. From what Kusa has told me, you have all of your master's kindness, humbleness, and devotion. Isn't that what beauty is?"

He stares at her hand, resting lightly on top of his. And in that moment, he hopes Kusa won't mind if he borrows some of her freshly-summoned courage, because he needs it desperately right now.

"Chocho," he says, and grips her hand tight, "I - I'm really - happy that you're here!"

"So am I," she replies, and he feels a soft squeeze on his hand. "Thank you… Hitotsume."

"Hey, you two!" A voice rings out behind them, and they immediately pull their hands apart, turning to see Hiyoribo running toward the riverbank. "It's almost time for the fireworks! Don't you have to come play in the band?"

"Oh, yes!" Chocho springs to her feet, bending down carefully to retrieve their plate and pair of wooden skewers. "Let's hurry, Hitotsume. I don't want to be late!"

And although he's certain he can't _really_ play the drums, Hitotsume is sure as hell going to try, now that he knows he's going to have Chocho by his side.

* * *

"They're going to make beautiful music together, aren't they?"

"Hakuro-san! _Shhhh!_"

"I knew this plan would work." In a pair of nearby raspberry bushes, Hakuro turns her attention away from the sight of the retreating spirit trio to grin at her tree spirit companion. "Good thinking, Kusa-chan."

Kusa beams and hides her blushing face behind her dandelion, forgetting all about trying not to get caught eavesdropping. "... it _was_ good thinking, wasn't it?"

* * *

_end_

**Important note:** This work was written for the Onmyoji Official Discord Server Fanfiction Contest. Please join the server at discord dot gg slash onmyoji to enter the contest and read more amazing entries!


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